Jespersen & Farah: Krigerne fra Nord

Det er al ære værd, at DR ønsker at skabe debat omkring en films emne, som det er sket med Søren Steen Jespersen og Nasib Farahs “Krigerne fra Nord”, som – citat fra hjemmesiden – “handler om radikaliseringen og rekrutteringen af unge med somalisk baggrund i Vesten til terrororganisationen Al-Shabab, som hærger i Somalia.” Det er god public-service, at filmen før sin visning har været genstand for omfattende presse og debatarrangementer rundt i landet. Og det er godt, at DR støtter en film, hvis hensigt er sober oplysning for at få seerne til at forstå den menneskelige baggrund. Hvorfor blev de terrorister?

Sagen er bare, at filmen, som her skal anmeldes, ikke lykkes. Ét problem er naturligvis, at den medvirkende anonyme hovedperson, ”Skyggen”, netop fremstår billedmæssigt som en skygge. Det er så hvad det er, han skal beskyttes, men det går galt, når han skal fortælle sin historie. Det gør han ganske givet med egne ord, som er skrevet ned (ifølge pressematerialet af instruktøren) og så indtalt. Det skrevne i en oplæst udgave virker klodset og kunstigt. Det skurrer i ørerne. Ægtheden ryger.

Flere indvendinger: Der er helt sikkert intet i vejen med den journalistiske research, som er foretaget både her, i Somalia og i andre lande, men der er intet fokus i den visuelle fortælling. Der er ikke et filmisk forløb, der hoppes ind og ud af hovedhistorien, der ”illustreres” med klichébilleder fra højhusmiljøer og tilbage står en

fragmenteret velmenende historie fortalt af en modig ung mand, der er ude af Al-Shabab og står frem, omend som en skygge, og fortæller om det gode sammenhold han havde med sine venner, når de sad i Danmark og så videoer, udsendt af Al-Shabab og andre, der opfordrer til vold og terror. To af de tre venner har sprængt sig selv og mange andre i luften, den tredje er i Somalia, hans navn er Mohammed og hans far er Abukar, som i filmen forsøger at få kontakt til sin søn for at bede ham om at komme hjem. Med Abukar i billedet lykkes det ind imellem at gribe tilskueren. Kunne filmen være bygget op om ham og hans forsøg på at redde sin søn ud af terroristernes kløer?

Rundt omkring hovedhistorien er der så scener med unge fra andre lande, som med tørklæde om hovedet og våben i hånd præsenterer, hvorfor de er i Al-Shabab – og en enkelt afhopper der står frem uden forklædning. Plus frygtelige scener med optagelser af terroraktioner forårsaget bl.a. af ”Skyggen”s venner. Fik vi så svarene og dermed en større forståelse? Jo, ”Skyggen” var træt af at blive set ned på af danskerne og af at drikke sig stiv hvert andet øjeblik, men ellers? Det større perspektiv. Næh…

Filmen vises på DR, i dag søndag den 12. oktober.

Danmark, 2014, 58 mins.

http://www.madeincopenhagen.dk

Tiha K. Gudac: Naked Island

They have always been and they are still made, these gripping documentaries about people being arrested and sent to isolated islands for punishment. By the people in power. On this occasion, I remember several films on the camps on Makronissos in Greece, the best being one by Ilias Yannakakis and Evi Karabatsou from 2008. And now this important film from Croatia produced by the production company Factum, that has never hesitated to focus on controversial themes, untold stories from the past and the present. This time told by a granddaughter, who wants to know her family story. Starting point: Why was grandfather’s body full of scars?

It was not talked about, when he was alive. It was a taboo what happened in Yugoslavia during those years in the beginning of the 1950’es, when grandpa, ”an enemy of the state”, was away for four years. It took a generation to deal with it, it was the granddaughter, the film’s director, who wanted to bring the story to the world. Which became a painful journey in itself. She had to address her mother, her sister, her father and a couple of ”aunts and uncles”, who were also sent to the island and were close to Marijan, the grandpa.

The mother carries pain from her life. She has, to say the least,

problems with the control of her mood, she goes from being angry with her daughter, ”ask questions with warmth, this is not a theatre”, she shouts to her, being later very often in tears, when she talks about her parents and the silence that surrounded the past or she is the one, who goes with the daughter, Tiha, the director of the film, to the places, where the family lived. And to the island of torture at the end.

Tiha’s parents divorced, when she was four years old – why is it that relatives to people with a story as the one of my grandpa very often end up being divorced, she asks herself and the mother? Good question.

Does it sound like a sad film? It is, but there is also joy and happy moments conveyed through loads of private holiday photos from the Croatian coast. Grandpa, who died in 1992, was an important and caring person in the lives of Tiha and especially Lenka, her sister, who – like the mother – has moved away from Zagreb, away from the capital, where the power is and politics is decided.

In one of many moving scenes Lenka talks about how she regrets not having understood how important grandma was, when grandpa was alive. She was the one who kept it all together and prevented the nigtmares come out in daylight. But still there were the nightly screams from the sleeping room of grandpa.

What actually happened on the island is being told by aunts and uncles. Torture being performed on each other, how the days went along… Tiha asks questions and she gets answers. During the film she looks mostly unaffected but – and you ask yourself when it will happen – after the meeting with her father, she has to turn away from the camera, in tears.

It is an interview-based film and in between you think, if it had not been possible to arrange the visual side of the interviews a bit more elegant and cinematic, and maybe come up with the informative (wonderfully short) sequence about Tito and the break with USSR earlier in the film – anyway, what you get touches you and I almost agree with the mother saying towards the end to the daughter: The message of this film is that a deep wound can be healed.

http://factum.com.hr/en

Croatia, 2014, 75 mins.

Inuk Silis Høegh: Sume

Det handler om rockbandet Sume fra 70’erne. Det var sammensat af grønlændere, som studerede i København. Hovedpersonerne i filmen er Malik Høegh, forrest i billedet og Per Berthelsen. Høegh skrev teksterne dengang og var forsanger, Berthelsen var midtpunkt i musikken og bandets organisation. Teksterne var skrevet på grønlandsk og de var i deres indhold dybt kritiske mod den danske grønlandspolitik. Musikken var stærkt i familie med den samtidige amerikanske rock. Det var uhørt med politisk rock på grønlandsk på det tidspunkt, og det spredte sig overalt i det grønlandske samfund i København og hurtigt også i Grønland. Filmen skildrer det som en folkelig vækkelse, men den udnytter det ikke til linje i det filmiske forløb.

De to var venner, og jeg tror også, at deres forholds udvikling kunne være blevet filmens drivkraft. Imidlertid er den udvikling ganske fredelig, og selv bruddet og skilsmissen stilfærdig. Så er der lp’erne som kom hurtigt efter hinanden og alle var successer, der er imidlertid ikke en filmhistorisk linje at følge fra år til år. Heller ikke en politisk udvikling i karaktererne for eksempel, skønt netop disse år er vigtige, turbulente og farverige i grønlandsk politisk historie, og Sume nært knyttet til løsrivelsestankernes hovedpersoner. Årtiet skildres som en tilstand, ikke som en dynamik, og dog får jeg en vag en fornemmelse af kronologi, selv om jeg hurtigt bekymret mister overblik og orientering. Hvor er jeg henne i fremstillingen?

Jeg er alligevel oprigtigt glad for den film, ser den igen og har fortsat lyst til at dykke ned i detaljer. Og hvorfor nu det? Der er naturligvis musikken, hvor en række numre og sange inkluderes i nær ved fuld længde i forløbet. Musikken er sådan set alene filmen værd. Men der er jo også det filmiske. Jeg blev allerede ved første gennemsyn ekstra opmærksom ved titlen på en af Sumes smukke sange, ”Qullissat”. Den by kender jeg fra noget ondt i noget godt. Her i denne fremmede verden, denne fremmede musik, dette fremmede sprog, en stolt kultur, som jeg ved, jeg er så forpligtet på, her er der pludselig noget, jeg ved lidt om i forvejen. Denne smukke, ulykkelige by er en del af også min erindring, min fortid. Det er fordi Aqqaluk Lynges og Per Kirkebys film har levet i mig, siden jeg så den i 1972 første gang, og formet mit billede af det grønlandske.

Min yndlingsscene fra ”Da myndighederne sagde stop”, som filmen hedder, indgår et sted i arkivmaterialet i ”Sume”. Det er Teit Jørgensens tætte indendørs optagelse med en mand fra byen, som, mens han ryger en cigaret og hans barn lytter med, fortæller om situationen. Byen er nedlagt, alle skal flyttes fra deres huse til, for en stor del tror jeg det var, lejligheder i Nuuks boligblokke. Jeg husker styrken ved den scene er dens længde, samværet, barnet som giver sig til at lege med røgen fra cigaretten. Den fortælling, den scene, er meget lang, måske er det en grønlandsk æstetik, at fortællinger er langsomme ligesom sproget? (Det burde jeg finde ud af). Udsagnet består af det, manden fortæller og meget af det, har jeg faktisk glemt, men filmscenens øvrige fortælling, for eksempel om stemningen i det hjem, livsrytmen der, trygheden til nu, lyset og farverne står tydeligt for mig. Men Inuk Silis Høegh og Per K. Kirkegaard klipper væk umiddelbart efter den sætning, de vil bruge. De kan ikke vente på, at scenens udsagn er færdigt, vente på, at den dør af sig selv, som på den gamle europæiske måde. De henter deres dokumentarfilmgreb fra en amerikansk æstetisk tradition, fuldstændig som Sume henter sit musikalske greb et tilsvarende sted, forstår jeg. Så det hænger meget godt sammen. Når man kritiserer noget, må man foreslå noget andet, aktivt stille noget andet i stedet, forklarer Malik Høegh stilfærdigt ansvarligt et sted i sit lange, gennemgående interview. Og der er derefter tilsvarende panoreringen over de smukke og alvorlige, tomme huse (Teit Jørgensen kunne det igen være), som de klipper sammen med en medvirkendes vemodige fortælling om at have boet i eget træhus i den lille bygd i generationer og nu som person, familie, kultur har måttet acceptere lejligheden i boligblokken af beton, en panorering, som rummer Inuk Høegs og Kirkegaards films politiske udsagn, endnu et punkt i deres stilfærdigt argumenterede nutidige anklageskrift. Som det gør mere og mere ondt at tilegne sig.

Jeg havde ellers problemer med valget af arkivmateriale, især når det er brugt som dækbilleder ved musiknumrene. Og kun ét sted fandt jeg ved første gennemsyn en rigtig smuk løsning. Det var ved sanglinjen, ”klatrer op ad klippevæggen…”, hvortil der klippes en fin lille drømmesekvens og så klippes til en tilsvarende nænsomt skildret del af interviewet med Helene Risager, som har lyttet til nummeret sammen med mig og sukker som jeg. Og derfor tænker jeg, at de andre musiknumres billedside kunne være fine på hver deres måde, i hver deres stil. Der måtte da være et system? Jeg blev ved med at være i tvivl, så jeg måtte se filmen igen, og jeg blev rykket en del, så jeg må igen snart se filmen igen…

Og især lokker Henrik Bohn Ipsens smukke interviewbilleder. De er alle i sig selv klogt og følsomt komponerede, indfølte portrætter af de medvirkende, og intervieweren, vel instruktøren selv, følger det kongenialt (lyder det bestemt til, alt fra ham er klippet væk). Jeg kunne lytte og lytte til disse mennesker længe, længe. Og sært nok er der i arkivmaterialet et tv-interview fra 1976 med på sin vis tilsvarende kvalitet. Sume er i ”Musikhjørnet”, og Malik Høegh er på. Og han gør næsten magisk det gamle tv-interview mærkeligt nutidigt! Jeg bliver glad, vil det skal fortsætte, men Kirkegaard har andre planer, og der klippes til filmens interview med Malik Høegh, og denne voksne mand fortsætter, som var intet hændt. Han var så fonuftig dengang, og sådan er han stadig, og jeg bliver glad og vil, at det skal fortsætte. Men, men… jeg er i de opklippede samtalers filmæstetik. Per K. Kirkegaards før/nu klip bruges tilsvarende (blot til stills i arkivmaterialet) ved de andre medvirkende musikere, fans og politikere. Alle behandles ens, det er ordentligt og fint og gribende med et lille smil og et lille stik af vemod, af smerte. De fremstilles som flotte folk, de er flotte folk.

”Sume – lyden af en revolution” er en uomgængelig film, en uundværlig film, en forpligtelse som historisk overvejelse, som politisk historisk dokument, som musikhistorisk, som kulturhistorisk dokument, en politisk ideologisk pamflet, som vil blive stående sådan i filmhistorien, men jeg tror den er problematisk som kunstværk, nok fordi den ikke er tænkt som filmkunst. I hvert fald ikke konsekvent. Ipsen, Høegh og Kirkegaard har tilsyneladende valgt at se filmens ambition som historieskrivning og måske også haft et ønske om en revolutionær gentagelse ude i den politiske virkelighed i dag og har villet lave et kampskrift i forlængelse af Sumes værk.

Og som sådan fungerer filmen sørme interessestimulerende og oprørende, også for uvidende som mig. Jeg bliver faktisk dybt optaget (vil spontant læse grønlandsk historie) og meget vred (ser mig omkring, hvor kan jeg engagere mig?), altså uomgængelig, uundværlig, ja, afgørende vigtig som dokument…

Grønland 2014, 72 min.

“Sume” har dansk biografpremiere 16. oktober i Esbjerg, Kolding, Aarhus, Aalborg og Odense d. 16. oktober. I København og Køge under CPH:DOX d. 6.-16. november. Biografdistribution: MICHAU+ ApS jm@michauplus.dk +45 6066 4842 www.michauplus.dk

Svetlana Strelnikova: Cardiopolitika

Sergey Sukhanov is the hero of this film. When in Eastern European countries for workshops I very often ask the filmmakers to say or write ”main character” or ”protagonist” instead of hero. But in this case Sukhanov is a hero. He is totally dedicated to his job, to be a cardio surgeon doing open heart operations and he has saved thousands of lives. It is a call for him, who is tough but fair when he discusses with his staff – or complains that they are not competent or attentive enough: I will deduct from your salary! He wants his colleagues to have the same dedication as himself: Being sick here is uncool! Tough but fair, well also heroes have unpleasant sides of their personality.

The chain-smoking surgeon (!) has problems with the local authorities. A new cardiac centre seems to be ready but there are still budget matters to be solved before it can open. He walks the empty corridors, checks the facilities, but when? An offer to head the presidential campaign for Putin locally is presented to the popular man, who, although doubtful, can see an advantage for his new centre, supported by Putin, and the population in the region of Perm.

This is the main theme of the film – a doctor, until then, far away from politics, decides to play the game of politics, not for personal gain but from an altruistic reason. The director of the film puts it

forward in an excellent observational way. The camera is there always, it seems, it catches the stress of the surgeon in his office, when he has meetings with the staff, when operating – in one scary (from a patient’s point of view) scene he is operating and doing a press interview at the same time! His constant stress comes out, when he gets irritable over small things like when his operating clothes have been laced too tight!

I’m not going to be involved in politics, he says, and talks about dishonesty and corruption. Nevertheless, he gets involved going around to meetings arguing for Putin as the best – who else, he says. Is the moral of the film that if you want to achieve a result like Sukhanov’s new centre, you have no choice but to go with the rulers of the game? Pragmatism and populism?

We often call for development of characters in film workshops. In this case Svetlana Strelnikova succeeds very well to depict how a charismatic character changes under pressure from outside to his integrity. The film has a rythm, an intensity in tone, to use – again – good old Leacock’s words, you have to convey the illusion of ”being there”. Strelnikova does so.

Russia, 2014, 65 mins.

The film got the main award in the National competition of the St. Petersburg festival:

http://message2man.com/en/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CPH:DOX 2014 /1989

1989 

CPH:DOX begynder nu at fortælle om programmet for festivalen i år. Åbningsfilm bliver verdenspremieren på “1989” af Anders Østergaard, der ikke blot bliver vist til festivalens åbning i DR Koncerthuset, men også samtidig i en del favoriserede biografer andre steder i landet og i 15 forskellige biografer i europæiske byer. ”Dermed bliver åbningsfilmen på CPH:DOX, for første gang i festivalens historie, ikke blot en københavnsk begivenhed – men noget hele Danmark og resten af Europa kan deltage i…” skriver de i pressemeddelelsen. Videre hedder det:

”’1989’ er et storpolitisk drama om Jerntæppets fald. Den unge, ukendte teknokrat Miklós Németh blev udpeget til Ungarns nye premierminister for at genoprette landets vaklende økonomi, og Neméth beslutter sig hurtigt for at opgive Ungarns omfattende og dyre grænsekontrol – jerntæppet mod vest. Det er en beslutning, der skaffer ham mægtige fjender blandt de ungarske betonkommunister og hos statslederne i Østblokken. Et ungt østtysk par hører som tusindvis af andre østtyskere om Némeths beslutning og drager afsted i håb om at kunne undslippe til Vesten gennem Ungarn, hvor grænsen kortvarigt åbnes helt. Men parret bliver fanget i det politiske magtspil, der foregår bag lukkede døre i Østblokken. Da de når grænsen, er den igen lukket, og den unge mand bliver skudt og dør. Den tragiske begivenhed får Németh til at åbne grænsen permanent, og kort efter falder Berlinmuren. I ’1989’ genskaber Anders Østergaard begivenhederne fra Jerntæppets fald og fører publikum dybt ind i de hemmelige mødelokaler. Det sker med en blanding af vidnesbyrd, arkivmateriale og rekonstruerede scener og dialoger, der er synkroniseret til eksisterende arkivmateriale med de politiske hovedpersoner i filmen.”

Still: Miklós Németh

CPH:DOX 2014. 6. – 16. november. Hele programmet bliver offentliggjort på mandag på cphdox.dk.

1989 Trailer Vimeo: https://vimeo.com/108357327

1989 Trailer Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4KR2cvcZNE&feature=youtu.be 

Anna Yanovskaya: Ten Centimeters of Life

First an explanation of the title of the film, enigmatic and fascinating it is: It refers to the ten centimeters of space below the ceiling where there was no water…  the space that saved lives at the unbelievable dramatic flood tragedy in the Krasnodar region near the Black Sea in Russia, in July 2012, an event that killed up to 200 people and left thousands homeless.

However, it is not statistics that interests the debutant director Anna Yanovskaya, it is the human dimension. She is using some archive material from 2012 – some shot via a cell phone from a roof top – to frame the visits she made to the city of Krymsk, where people more than one year after remember it all, while trying to rebuild their lives. The director uses a first person narrative, she is sometimes in the picture, ”I was in the epicenter of grief”, yes this is what it is about in a film that includes moving scenes of deep deep pain but also demonstrates the human being’s will to go on…

A grandmother is in focus. Her grandson comes home from military service, the family gathers around the table, singing and drinking, drinking and singing, a wonderful typical Russian gathering, there is a tone and an atmosphere in these scenes – but the conversations keep on going back to what happened in July 2012. There is a lot of anger towards the authorities, ”they did nothing”, we see a mother holding a picture of her small son, a picture taken two hours before he disappeared, unbearable, as is the archive footage showing a man swimming, trying to grap a pipe, ”hold on”, they scream to him, but he can not, he is taken by the water and we are told that he did not make it, he drowned. A young man from the municipality (I guess) goes around to visit to see how the reconstruction is progressing. His meetings with old couples are caught by the camera, sweet bitterness.

Grandma is sitting outside her house, you read her face, grief but also survival will… a fine  work, this is, personal, terrifying theme, maybe sometimes a bit messy in structure, still, the most important is that the director brings the viewer into the souls and minds of those who suffered and still do so.

Russia, 2014, 66 mins. 

The film was in the national competition at the

http://message2man.com/en/

Jihlava Festival Announces its Programme

The day after DOKLeipzig (below), the Jihlava International Documentary Film Festival (IDFF) announces its programme schedule, October 23-28. The newsletter from the Czech festival does also, as DOKLeipzig, focus on statistics in its first paragraph. After headline ”57 world, international or European premieres at this year’s Jihlava IDFF”, it goes like this ” This year, the traditional competition sections will offer a unique blend of auteur documentaries, most of which as world, international or European premieres. In the competition of world documentaries Opus Bonum the IDFF Jihlava will present 5 world premieres, 5 international premieres and 1 European premiere. In Between the Seas, the competition of Central and East European documentary film, there will be 4 world premieres, 2 international and 2 European premieres. The Czech Joy competition will present 10 world premieres.”

All right, let’s go to content, the films, where I can only salute that there are films from Guinea-Bissau, Brazil, Argentina, South Korea, Philippines, Japan and – I know I am repeating myself – “Euromaidan. Rough Cut” from Ukraine.

I will be in Jihlava 3 full days and apart from taking part in a couple of industry activities, I am looking forward to watch films and why not dig into the section “Czech Joy”, where there are films by Veronika Liskova, Miroslav Janek (photo) and Jan Gogola. I am a big admirer of Janek, whose films on Vaclav Havel and on Olga Havlova have been praised on filmkommentaren.

I have been to Jihlava several times, mostly for the workshop of Ex Oriente, but also for the festival, once in the jury, and a compliment to the film selection: it is always surprising and out-of-mainstream festival profiles.

http://www.dokument-festival.com/news-detail/17304

DOKLeipzig Programme Announced

Today DOKLeipzig announced its programme for the festival, that runs from October 27 to November 2. Whether you like to highlight it or not, the press release stresses that the festival offers 41 world premieres – 29 documentary and 12 animation films. And there are several international premieres and all 80 films in competition are for the first time to be seen in Germany!

All right, duty done, statistics and ambition/rules of the game mentioned, yes I know that it is a competitive environment for a big festival like DOKLeipzig – what is more important is the content, the films that the festival has chosen and there is indeed a clear profile this year: Laura Poitras film on Snowden opens the festival, there are several films from and about Ukraine, there are Syrian filmmakers in the programme, films from South America, Asia, from Arab countries and Africa. The world is at its worst, documentaries are describing the situation, that’s how it should be, DOKLeipzig lives up to its reputation and tradition. In the officlal programme 198 films are being shown, in the “Sonderreihen” another 170 are listed, we have mentioned the retrospective of Jon Bang Carlsen as just one of them. He is one of very few Nordic documentarians to visit Leipzig, from the Baltic countries there are no documentaries. Seems like the Nordic go to cph:dox and idfa, the Baltics to Visions du Réel.

I have booked myself in to 5 full days in Leipzig during the festival, lot of watching, meeting people and saying goodbye to Claas Danielsen (photo), who stops as festival director with this edition. Some title-dropping from the feature length documentary competition: Sergei Loznitsa with “Maidan”, Ulrich Seidl with “Im Keller”, the French Bories and Chagnard who made the fine “The Arrivals” (winner in Leipzig in 2012) is back with “Rules of the Game”, Fernand Melgar who was in Leipzig in 2011 with “Vol Spécial” is there with “The Shelter” and Alexander Nanau (“The world According to Ion B.”) presents his “Toto and his Sisters”.

By clicking at the bottom of the link below you can get a pdf of the official programme of the festival.

http://www.dok-leipzig.de/festival/festival-news?start:int=0 

Olga Lvoff: When People Die They Sing Songs

Sonia, the daughter, sits down at the computer to write the headline “My Family’s European Genocide Story”… one of many stories, where a majority of a family ended up in Auschwitz, but in her case she is lucky to have her 93 year old mother Regina next to her, to tell her what happened. And it has to be told now while Regina is still able to remember. She is on her way to dementia.

It’s a warm and moving life story that the two of them unfold in the flat in New York, and the director succeeds to have their personalities come out. Regina is wonderful, you sense how strong she must have been, a survivor and a fighter to give her daughter a good life. Sonia indicates that the mother stays alive because she is afraid that she – Sonia – can not manage it – the life – herself! That is one of the beautiful scenes in the film. Sonia comes out a bit pushy sometimes, talking down to her mother – like we do to relatives, who are getting old, don’t we? But she is also the one to tell the story of her ill father, who when she was a child, was taken to an asylum, where she came to visit him. She saw him for twenty minutes, then he left.

Regina likes to sing, in Jiddisch, and a music teacher comes with his guitar to sing with them. These are not the most succesful scenes in the film. It sounds maybe paradoxical but I feel that the young man is an intruder to the scenes of intimacy that the director is able to establish between a mother and a daughter, who wants to know her family’s story before it is too late. This is something we can all relate to, why did we not ask mother and father when they were there…

Having said so, and also having some reservations towards some small visual dramatizations that I don’t find necessary: the documentary is a fine example of how close you can get and how respectfully and sensitive the director has dealt with the mother and daughter relationship.

Russia, USA, 47 mins., 2014

http://whenpeoplediefilm.com/about

Loparev & Kurov: Children 404

It’s one of those films, that had to be made and that you hope will be shown everywhere to pass the information about the absurd and inhuman condition that the LGBT community lives under in Russia after a law was set up that forbids “promotion of nontraditional sexual relations to minors”.

… and to pass the information that brave people do something for the teenagers, who meet anger and violence, insults and intimidation from parents and school mates. “People like you should be burned” is one of the remarks that are brought forward in the film, that gives space for statements by mostly anonymous children, who contact the network/ internet group 404, named after the message we often get on the internet, “404-error, not found”. Many of them have tried to take their own lives.

Elena Klimova is the young woman behind the initiative and one of the two main characters. She talks well and the scenes with her and her partner Zhenya in their kitchen have a warm and intimate conversation atmosphere. They left their journalistic jobs or rather were pushed out because of their homosexuality and have taken on this mission to help – 22.000 joined the group, 1364 shared their stories the first year. The other main character is a young man – with open-minded parents and wonderful grandparents – who has decided to leave the country for Canada.

It affects you a lot this fine documentation that has a simple humanistic non-sensational approach to a theme, where you want to shout: Shame on you Putin et co.!

Russia, 2014, 76 mins.

http://www.riseandshine-berlin.de/portfolio_page/children-404/